Luyện nghe bài hát Sum Shit I Wrote

Marks I erase like racism, I'm as large as a
Groove is my when I'm bubbly I just kick it
What I from you is understanding that I'm standing
On my own two, down with my own

Toe cancer, I'm bad to the bone too, I'm to snap off
When I'm off Cognac, I can't hold back like a masseuse
I get loose like a screw turned left right to tight
When it's for some action, I get Red's, "Tonight's Da Night"

An eye for an eye, a life for his
Dissected, I'm on some hi-tech shit want to bite
Your style is Pascal, is Basic and just instinct
I'm with the fam and ran scams, me and got up on big links

And if knowledge is the key, goddammit I'm the
a missionary way on my life, the mic I rust like bostage
I switch styles a channel with controls that are remote
Engage in a page and with words I

Walking down the with styles I freak the viles
when I rocks like a Z-28
At any rate, brothers gain interest because I loaned microphones
They house the shit so they had to rent to own

It's that, coming from the go rapper
I wanna bone Pinkett and that hoe Patra
So keep on and you don't, now on
Ah on and you don't

Sometime when I'm in my room I stare at the wall
And in the back of my mind I hear a rhyme
And I catch Alz-rhymers, then forget it, I get
Like a nigga in with the stolen card the credit

flipping the script, the rap scene I'm trying to edit
My mellows me, "Never", they be like, "Never's going to get it"
Never's too much, I'm much too, I do justice to
That's why cats be like, "Fuck you, you, fuck you!"

Other studs come through to see I am up to
They be on the dick of crew that be us sweet and buying us fruit
Like Kareem I got the up, brothers look out because they look
Rest in peace to 'Heavena', washing of rappers like Booker

Tee told me, "You get out of the crib, get into the world"
How you going to come off with the style that's
It's that, keep on, ha ha
It's like that, on

My foundation is in black block of niggas that rock they hat
I'm real a fight with my rap, rappers I slap box
Back I got my rap, now get your glock out the black
Got flavor with fat taste, the rat race is a rat race

Just 'cause you got Adidas the fat laces
And the fro don't make you hip-hop, tou sorry excuse for rap
Why is there so many cranks to rhyme, yo funk that
The real shit's starting to come

The go is where I'm from and where I'm at,
I started cat when I was 10
Before dinner I was getting big dog like Robinson
I don't see nothing wrong with a bump and grind

But comes a time when you gotta get off of booty
The facts of life I didn't from watching Tootie
But living in the big
But I still like cause she got big titties

My is steep, I write rhymes on the incline
Splat guts plus fat nuts and lay up a crib line
I'm slamming, on the one
I'm a bad man, just a good son, come on